Here in Your Arms, I'm Safe
by DieZeitVergeht
Summary: On the day of their one year anniversary, Chloe is no where to be found.
1. Insecurities

Here in Your Arms, I'm Safe.

Bechloe - On the day of their one year anniversary, Chloe is no where to be found.

Rated: M

/

Beca wakes up in a cold bed. She never wakes up in a cold bed. At least not since she moved in with Chloe at the beginning of spring semester. She doesn't know whether to worry or go back to sleep.

When she doesn't hear Chloe walking around their small apartment and when she doesn't come back into bed after a few long moments, Beca starts to (over)think.

Why would Chloe not be here; today of all days.

It's been a year today.

Beca may have kissed Jesse at the conclusion of the Bellas' performance at finals last year but that didn't mean she actually felt anything for him.

When Jesse pulled away, they stared at each other for a second or two then started laughing. Their kiss was anything like it should have been. Like kissing your Great Aunt Sally at your annual family reunion type of kiss.

Beca should have realized earlier anyway, only one person had really been occupying her mind (even though she was forcing herself to think about Jesse).

Long story short, Chloe graduated but stayed at Barden with a TA position in the English department.

(Beca is still dead set on the thought that her dad had something to do with that bit).

Chloe recruited the one and only Beca Mitchell to help pack her old on-campus apartment that she'd previously shared with Aubrey in favor of unpacking her things once again in the small apartment she'd found just outside campus.

Days passed until a week passed. More days passed and who really knows what happened, but suddenly Beca was stark naked with an equally naked Chloe hovering over the smaller girl, three fingers deep within her, on the queen sized bed she'd just bought.

Sweat coated their bodies as they moved in sync with each other like they'd been dancing this dance for years, not just an hour or two.

And now here is Beca, waking up alone on their one year anniversary. She frowns when she finally realizes that Chloe is not coming back to bed. The brunette grabs a blanket from the bottom of the bed and wraps it around her nude body before leaving the room to see if Chloe is even in their home.

Beca represses the pang of pain that stabs her in the heart realizing her girlfriend isn't there at all.

She rushes back to the bedroom and rips open the closet and breathes out a sigh of relief at seeing all of Chloe's clothes still there. She doesn't really know what she would have done if they hadn't been…

She doesn't worry about it though because Chloe has helped her so much in the two years that they've been in each other's lives. The walls that took years to put up are all but gone; so much so that Beca doesn't even feel the need to bury herself in her mixes to thrive and survive anymore.

But even now as Chloe is long gone, no note, no nothing, Beca easily can feel herself closing up again.

She falls back on her bed and takes her phone from her bedside table and frowns seeing an unread text message from the girl in question.

- _don't worry about me, baby. I'll be home_

Well that's reassuring…

/

It's only late mid-day now. But Beca still hasn't heard from Chloe, despite multiple phone calls and countless text messages.

Beca can feel something rising in herself that she hasn't felt in a while. That she hasn't felt since before Chloe ever came along.

When her father left, Beca took it the hardest out of her and her mom. She didn't know what she'd done to disappoint her father. She spent that first year putting the blame on herself before her mom found her slipping away.

She was diagnosed with depression after a few sessions with the therapist her mom set her up with. The divorce was the trigger and who knows what Beca would have done if her mom didn't love her as much as she did.

Chloe not being here (maybe her feelings are extra heightened just because she figured her girlfriend would want to spend their first anniversary together) alone is causing her to relapse.

It's not big. Her depression never saw cuts or burns on her skin. Never saw her abusing drugs. She always ate right. She was too used to putting herself down that she needed nothing else to hurt her.

But she's relapsing and she's scared and Chloe makes her better but she's no idea how to even find her.

So she does the only thing she knows and locks herself in her room with all of her mixing things and gets lost in her music.

It's an hour later when she's starving and getting up to find something to eat when she sees the message on her phone. It's not from Chloe, but Aubrey (who Beca swears still has some grudge against her).

The message is an address and a time. Beca tries not to read the last "dress nice and don't be late" in the snarkiest way possible. She can almost hear Aubrey yelling, "take those disgusting ear monstrosities out," at the screen of her phone.

Beca looks at the time again then looks at the time on her phone. She's going to be late if she doesn't hurry. And when Aubrey Posen tells her not to be late, well damn Beca learned the hard way to just listen to her.

She leaves her earrings in.

/

She arrives just a minute before the time Aubrey had sent. She's at a restaurant (her and Chloe's favorite restaurant in fact). And that's perfect because her stomach is screaming at her now.

A waiter opens the door and requests that Beca follow him. She does so until she's led into a private room. Candles are laid out, rose petals litter the floor, and the love of her life is standing by the table with her hand stretched out for Beca to take.

Beca all but sighs at the contact she makes when her hand connects with Chloe's.

"Hi," Chloe greets with her signature smile adorning her face. She leans in and places a kiss to Beca's cheek.

"Hey," Beca breathes back.

"You okay?" As soon as Beca walked in the room, Chloe had immediately known something was off with her girlfriend.

Beca stares at Chloe, just so her eyes could roam the contours of Chloe's face. Taking in how beautiful she is, how beautiful she always is. "I'm okay now," she replies after a long beat.

"Do you need to talk about it?"

Beca shakes her head. "Not yet. I don't want to ruin dinner. We can talk about it later."

"Are you sure, baby?"

"Positive." Beca presses her lips to Chloe's and sighs happily. "I missed you today," she mumbles against Chloe's lips.

Chloe smiles and hugs her girlfriend close to her body. When she pulls away again, she lightly kisses Beca's forehead.

The women part and Chloe turns around, walks to the table, and pulls out the chair she stands behind, signaling for Beca to sit down. Beca smiles warmly at her girlfriend and takes the seat.

/

Heavy panting and cries echo out in Beca and Chloe's small one bedroom apartment.

Beca's fingers are buried to hilt inside of Chloe, thrusting sporadically to the beat of the only song that's ever on repeat in her head when she fucks her girlfriend. She speeds it up to the eighth note rather than follow the slower beat of the quarter note.

Her arm is starting to burn but she pays no attention as Chloe pushes her down by her head and soon Chloe's hardened clit is between Beca's teeth.

The low moan that rips through Chloe's mouth and the fingers that tighten in her hair and the way Chloe's trying so desperately to not buck her hips into Beca's mouth and fingers ignite the fire again deep within Beca herself.

She's humming what's now dubbed as 'their' lady-jam into the lower heat of Chloe's body. Her fingers slow to the quarter note and she goes as deep as she can before Chloe is arching off the bed seconds later and Beca's fingers are trapped by the clenching of Chloe's inner walls.

Beca calms down Chloe's erratic post-climactic spasms and kisses her way back up Chloe's body. She whispers a small "hello," as she kisses her girlfriends lips.

"Hi," Chloe mumbles back. They kiss lazily while Chloe recovers from her third orgasm of the night. Both women are breathing hard but they still find the strength to convey their love for each other through sweet pecks of lips against swollen lips.

Chloe always surprises Beca with just how quickly she recovers. She goes to flip them over but the brunette softly declines telling her girlfriend that she's too tired, what with five or six rounds; one orgasm after another.

The redhead smiles fondly at Beca and allows her to roll over onto the bed.

Beca settles herself next to Chloe, her arms tightly wrapped around the other woman's waist; her head in place delicately on her chest and the motion of Chloe's breathing begins to lull her to sleep.

She's half in and half out of sleep when she feels Chloe maneuver her way out of Beca's arms.

Beca doesn't register anything until she hears the soft click of the bedroom door closing. She didn't feel Chloe cover her with the bunched up sheet from the bottom of the bed and she didn't feel the light kiss Chloe placed on her temple. Nor does she acknowledge Chloe slipping on just one of the discarded pairs of underwear from the floor.

But the click of the door is enough to make her forget all about her tiredness. She shoots straight up, clutching the sheets to sweat-sticked chest, wondering just why Chloe needed to leave again.

Beca doesn't understand why this is effecting her as bad as it is. Is it because of the significance of the day? Of the fact that Beca still worries about not being good enough? Is it because she could tell Chloe had been acting too anxious at dinner?

Many thoughts and scenes play through her head. She can almost see Chloe coming back into the room and telling her she doesn't love her; she never did. She can see Chloe not saying a word and packing her things away then walking out the door.

Or maybe Chloe cheated on her and doesn't know how to tell her. Maybe it was with a guy and now she's pregnant.

The more Beca thinks, the more anxious she gets herself; the more paranoid she becomes.

She gets out of bed and pulls a large sleep shirt out of their shared dresser and slips it on. She walks out of her room to find Chloe, leaning against their dining table with her bare back facing her, on her phone, and whispering into the device.

"I'm not ready. We're not ready! How could I think that we are?" Chloe pauses and Beca assumes whomever Chloe is talking to is currently speaking.

"Bree…" she whines, "yes I love her. How could anyone not?" Beca sighs quietly, mentally crossing off one of those situations from her earlier plaguing thoughts. "But we're so young, she's even younger! Maybe she'd think I'm trying to hold her back or something," she trails off.

Beca doesn't like hearing the doubt so prevalent in Chloe's normally strong voice. She walks to where Chloe is perched and pulls at Chloe's face. "I love you," she mouths.

"I…I gotta go, Bree…yes, I think I'm going to do it…yes I'll let you know…ugh! Yes you'll plan it, is that a question? I'm going now. Bye." Chloe hangs up her phone and blindly places it on the table behind her.

Beca stares, amused at Chloe. As soon as her eyes landed on her face her worries left, just like always.

"How much of that did you hear?" Chloe asks.

"Mm enough," Beca murmurs back. She presses her lips to Chloe's and revels in the dull sparks she still feels. Chloe hugs Beca's waist and pulls the woman tight into her body just like earlier that night. "Come back to bed…" she whispers sullenly. It's not her usual quiet whisper, she sounds more sad.

"Something's wrong. What's bugging you, Bec? You've been off all day." Leave it to Chloe to easily pick up on Beca's mood.

Beca stares into Chloe's baby blue eyes for a while. "As long as you're with me, everything will be alright," she replies after a moment. "You're my everything, Chloe."

"And you're my everything too, Ms. Mitchell. And that's why you're going to tell me what's been eating at you when we're back cuddling in our sex ravished bed. But first I need to get your present while you go warm up our bed."

"Chlo, we agreed on no presents!" Beca exclaims.

"The only present you need to give me, is just saying 'yes.' Can you do that?"

Beca nods her head into the crook of Chloe's neck.

"Good, because I _really_ want you to be my wife."

Beca freezes in Chloe's arms.

A/n: oops I got a little ahead of myself…un beta-ed. So yeah. Hope you liked it! Leave your thoughts. Should I continue? Check out my tumblr! die-zeit-vergeht


	2. Freaking School

Here in Your Arms, I'm Safe (2/?)

Prompt: Bechloe - Beca is getting frustrated with her homework but Chloe knows just what to do to get Beca's mind of it.

Rated: M

A/n: look another chapter! Thanks for all the support! This chapter is a little different than the first, hope you don't mind! So yeah, hope you guys enjoy this too :) ** *OH YEAH. I reccomend listening to _**Primavera** - Ludovico Einaudi (youtube watch?v=qmxFAT581T4) _during the entire thing to get the exact feelings of this chapter.

/

You hate school so much. You don't know why you agreed to the stipulations made from your father. All you wanted to do was go to L.A. and get started working your way up on the food chain.

And yet you're still here anyway. In fact this is now your third year at Barden.

You don't know why you picked such a hard semester but you did and now you're regretting listening to your father when he said studying for an English degree and a music degree at the same time would be easy.

And because of the stupid English requirements, you're stuck taking a Shakespeare class.

Pure Shakespeare and only Shakes-fucking-peare.

And of fucking course, you're stuck with one of the hardest professors in the whole goddamn department (maybe even the entire facility).

So because of this _amazing_professor, you're pretty much reading two to three of his plays a week.

Two to three! You don't even understand what the fuck he's trying to say. And your professor isn't helping much at all either.

Honestly the only way you're even passing this class is because of Chloe. Your girlfriend. No, your fiancée. Your _new_fiancée.

Well new in the fact that she just asked on your one year back in May. So maybe she's your not-so-new but still relatively-new fiancée because it's been like five months now and you've been dating since the end of your freshman year.

The point of this is that Chloe took this same class with this same professor. And Chloe is the type of student that keeps all of her notes just because she's so meticulous about everything. Especially when it comes to literature and writing.

Most people usually assume Chloe majored in something music and it even surprised you when she told you she was getting a dual degree in comparative lit and creative writing. Your father even praises you every chance he gets because she's apparently one of the best students he ever had.

Which is why she's still at Barden pursing her grad degree in comparative lit with a TA position under your father.

She was planning on staying at Barden anyway once she graduated, but having that TA position made everything that much better for the two of you. One she doesn't have to pay her grad tuition; she insists that money go towards your wedding. And two (no matter how much you say it bugs you) she takes you out to dinner for your Friday date night.

You always insist on paying, but you only have that job at the station. And it pays you like below minimum wage. But you love it no matter how much your dad wants you to find another job.

Tonight is not one of those nights though because you're struggling with this Shakespeare assignment, and you should be learning all this music theory stuff, and you need to work on your solfege assignment so don't fail miserably like last time. There's a piece you're supposed to be memorizing on piano and there's something else that your brain is just too fried to even remember.

Chloe is in your bedroom working on some thing or another while you're spread out on the kitchen table. This school thing is really kicking your ass because all you want to do is mix. But you can't because you need to pass this class. Part of you wonders if it's acceptable to go ask your dad to pull some strings, being the head of the comparative lit branch.

You're thinking up different ways to ask him when you feel arms snake around your neck. Immediately as the familiar scent of Chloe's perfume registers in your mind, you can feel your entire body relax. You love that just the smell of her can do that to you.

"You're so tense, Bec," Chloe whispers into your ear.

"I can't do this anymore," you groan, "This class is killing me. I swear this is just torture. They want me to quit school."

"Baby, relax. You can do this. You've made it through the first half of the semester. When you need help, you know I'm here. You don't have to stress yourself out like this." With every word Chloe says, you believe her more and more.

"No I can't do this, Chlo!" you repeat and you honestly believe it too.

You can feel just how fried your brain is because it's difficult just finding more words to make another complete thought.

"Yes you can," Chloe encourages. "We're going to take a break, okay? We're going to relax, then we're going to sit down and analyze the play of the day." Chloe's voice is strong and promising. "Can you do that for me, sweetie?"

You feel yourself nod in response, then Chloe's hands are pulling your chair out and pulling you up out of the chair and before you know it, you're face down on your bed, hugging a pillow, with your torso completely bare.

Chloe is sitting just below the curve of your butt and her hands are rubbing at the tense knots you know are in your lower back (you don't regret hunching over in your haste to perform osmosis with your like ten million page Shakespeare anthology anymore).

You're too out of it to realize Chloe turned on music and she's quietly humming along. When you start actually listening, you recognize one of Chloe's favorite (and in conjunction, your favorite too) contemporary classical artists.

It's something about a string ensemble and pianos that are calming or something.

You groan as Chloe's fingers push harder into your back, you can feel the song building and it's almost as if Chloe's hands match the song. No, you know Chloe's moving her magic hands in relation to the song.

You love the way her hands dance around your back in in gentle caresses to match the soft, light flurrying of piano notes. You sigh and moan in complete pleasure as her finger tips dig into your sensitive skin at the rougher and harder parts of the song. As the tension builds between the strings and the piano the tension dissipates under the talent of Chloe's fingers.

The song turns soft once more with light flourishing wisps of runs on the piano once more and her fingers are ghosting over your shoulders now as she moves to sit on your waist. Her legs are lightly squeezing your sides and the tension builds again in the piece resonating from the speakers throughout the room and her fingers dig into the knots at your neck.

You can't help the small whimpers leaving your mouth now.

As always when Chloe gives you these massages, they go from relatively innocent to erotic fast as the mixture of the music combines with the complete pleasure emanating just from the feeling of Chloe's amazing fingers.

You revel in the tension literally disappearing from your body the longer Chloe's hands are on you. You can't really feeling anything besides her and you really _really_ don't mind that at all.

You're pretty sure time doesn't exist anymore. Your eyes barely stay open until you can't fight anymore and they close and don't open again. You lose track of the dancing of Chloe's hands on your bare skin, even though you know she's still there.

You're falling asleep as complete relaxation takes over your sated body.

The same song repeats a few times until you feel Chloe climbing off your relaxed body. You have no control of your body as Chloe lays next to you and tugs at your side until you're being spooned by her. You faintly register letting your body lean into her touch and her arms protectively tightening around your still bare torso.

It's barely even a second later that you've fallen asleep in Chloe's arms.

/

You're body feels relaxed when you're being woken up again. You make a mental note to bribe Chloe into giving you massages every night before you go to sleep.

A gasp escapes your lips when you feel Chloe lightly kiss and suck at the sensitive skin just below your ear. Her fingers are dancing around your stomach and you giggle when they linger at the flesh under your breasts (you're not exactly sure why you're so ticklish there, but you don't care too much. Especially when it's Chloe's tongue licking there. You're pretty sure your body would combust from prolonged exposure to Chloe tonguing at your most sensitive spot – above your waist).

A slight smile tugs at your lips as you remember the first time Chloe found the spots on your body that drive you insane.

It was much like a night like tonight, although it was homework bogging you down. You were working on a new mix that just wouldn't work. It was when you and Chloe first started dating. She was as insatiable as ever and kept trying to distract you from your work.

She found the sensitive spot under your ear first.

As she moved your headphones off one ear to whisper something extremely dirty, the warm, tickling sensation of her breath on your skin caused a noticeable shiver to rake through your entire body. She had fun with that spot for a while, until she accidently found your other spot.

It became a game to her.

How fast could she get you worked up?

Could she make you lose control without even touching you down there?

How many times could she touch you – with a lick under your ear and fingers caressing under your boobs – and get you off without another thought to your burning center?

Her game last all summer, to your chagrin. It never ceased to embarrass you, how easily she got you off. You still blush at the memory.

Or maybe you blush for another reason altogether, because you only ever remember when she's doing it again, like at the current moment.

You can feel your body burning, the blood that rushing to your face as Chloe continues to nibble at your skin and press her fingers in just the right spot. She's nudging her knee between your legs and making sure her crotch is firmly against the back of your thigh.

You whimper as she starts rocking her body against yours. Her breath is ragged in your ear and her teeth are lightly tugging at your ear now. You push your body down so you can get pressure to your center and she replies by meeting you halfway with a thrust up.

A cry escapes you now and you're turning your head to bite at your pillowcase.

Your bodies move together so well and your pleasure is reaching uncharted levels as Chloe's body begins picking up speed. And suddenly you realize you're falling over the precipice of extreme pleasure as the song (that you definitely didn't notice under the sound of your blood rushing through body) erupts in fireworks in your mind.

Muffled moans echo from your mouth into your pillow.

Chloe's hip motions are becoming more and more erratic. And you can feel the connection between her pleasure and the tension building once again in the song. She thrusts harder, faster, she's matching the accelerando in the music and suddenly the same fireworks from moments before erupt again and she's falling too.

She's crying out. She's burying her head into your neck. She's biting at your skin. She's clutching at your body.

She's riding the same pleasurable rollercoaster as you and you're calming down together.

/

It's hours later and you're finally returning back to your homework.

Chloe's in the chair next to you, coaching you through your Shakespeare play. She's pointing things out from her notes and you're highlighting the important passages she's pointing out. You're taking notes on the importance of those passages and you're finally getting somewhere again.

When Chloe gets up to get a glass of water for you both, you let your brain wander from thoughts of Old English and Shakespeare and this class that you despise.

You let yourself think about how happy you are with Chloe.

She's your muse and your music. She's the piano to your violin. She's the one to compliment you, no matter how rough around the edges.

And you fucking love her.

/

A/n: so here's another chapter. I'll let you decide, which did you like better. Point of view from the first chapter or this one? And I think this will be one of those prompt stories! So go ahead, visit my tumblr (die-zeit-vergeht), and leave prompts in my ask box, and I'll put them in this story!


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